"You have—other men have loved you."
"European men—the type my lot was cast with—may be romantic in their extreme youth—I have never been attracted by men in that stage of development, so I may only suppose—but when a man has learned to adjust passion to technique there is not much romance left in him."
"Are you waiting for your romance, then? Have you come to this more primitive civilization to find it?"
She raised her head and looked him full in the eyes. "No, I did not believe in the possibility then."
"May I have a high-ball?"
"Certainly."
He took his drink on the other side of the room. It was several minutes before he returned to the hearth. Then he asked without looking at her: "How do you expect to find romance if you shut yourself up?"
"I wanted nothing less. As little as I wanted it to be known that I was here at all."
"That damnable mystery! Who are you?"
"Nothing that you have imagined. It is far stranger—I fancy it would cure you."